This is a post about breaking my fricking wrist.

Remember that time I went to France and broke my wrist within the first three weeks? Come on, Shawn. Step it up kid.

So here's what went down, yo. Friday night dinner went a little late, and I was supposed to go out with some friends.  But if I didn't dilldally around I could make it to the tram in time before the next one left. All should have been good.  So I leave the house en vélo (bi-cycle). After about 25 seconds I turn around. Wrong way. I don't even know how I managed that, I've lived here for near three weeks.  What the frack, Shawn.  I probably should've took that as an ill omen.  Anyway, so here I am, pedaling and pedaling down the street, going so fast in my leather jacket, thinking I'm quite the sexy babe, when a car comes up behind me.  Oh, I better get on to the sidewalk. I look at the curb and see that its getting smaller, as curbs do, so people can ride up on the bike path. PSYCHE. France is full of lies, namely when it comes to curbs letting people onto the sidewalk.  The curb did in fact get smaller but not enough to let me ride up onto the sidewalk. So boom, crash, and one very loud vulgar word later, I have crashed. I felt pretty cool, though, cause I fell but did the cool roll twice thing and was up on my feet. Apparently, however, I didn't spare my wrist.  The nice French lady driving the car that was coming up on me stopped to see if I was okay.  However, I cracked under pressure, and when she rolled her window down, I just screamed in English, "I"M FINE" and she just kind of nodded and drove away, slightly confused-/terrified-looking. Trooper that I am and not wanting to miss the tram, I jumped back on and continued on my way.  My wrist wasn't hurting at that point. My pants, though, have some fun little holes in the side.  I get to the tram stop, and lo and behold, I missed the tram and had to wait 25 minutes. Frickin' gat-dang frack.

That paragraph was too long and making me uncomfortable.  So sitting at the tram I start to realize just how sore that fall made me.  My wrist is paining me and my hip and knee, too. So far, though, no blood, but I decide to check under my undies for what my hip looks like.  Shoot.

Behold, part of my grotesque body.

This really isn't so bad anymore, and wrist aside, I'm feeling pretty dandy.  So the rest of the night goes well. My wrist starts hurting a little more, but a good night out with some friends kept me from worrying about it too much.  Until the trip home.  Walking my bike back uphill, one-handed is far less fun than it sounds, and it's a not very appealing idea to begin with. Then bed. Yes.

Saturday. Morning. Shower. Nigh fricking impossible.  Everything was done this day one handed.  Stupid.  I wouldn't make it as an amputee.  Hostmom Valerie, bless her, was the sweetest and cut all my food up for me because I was useless and incapable.  I pretty much spent the day in napping, resting, and being my usual lethargic self.  Wrist aside, it was a good day.  

Sunday.  Wrist is a little better. Could actually use my hand some.  Probably shouldn't have, though, since you know its FRICKIN BROKEN. Oh, also, I need to point out that I didn't go to the doctor 'cause it didn't seem so bad.  Hostmom tried taking me, but it was a weekend and places were either closed or busy and not really worth it.  But SisterSurgeon, my host sister who's a surgeon, came over Sunday for a snack and looked at my arm.  She recommended an x-ray.  Eff.

Whaddup Monday.  Arm is feeling better.  I constantly am walking around curling my hand into a fist, and it just makes me think of superheroes when they do the whole, "Power... growing. Feeling... stronger!" thing so I keep saying that to myself.  I hope you get what  I mean.  If not, you're obviously way cooler than me. Anyway, Doctor's appointment today.  Boy what a process. LEGGO

First: Doctor's Appointment.  Not bad. I show up, she say's I should get an x-ray.  Cool, let's do it.  Gotta go to the radiology place. I should say, not everything is the same big hospital here.  There are lots of little clinics around for each department.  Anyway. X-ray.  Waiting, waiting, waiting, x-rayed.  It's fun. Except for the finding out its fractured part. But I'm meeting lots of people and speaking that ole' French langauge, singing my song of falling off my bike like a bumbling child over and over.  After the x-ray it's back to the doctor so she can prescribe yummy medicines and a cast. Now its over to another clinic to have the cast done.  Here is the not so fun part.  Lots of waiting, about an hour, and then into the doctor. Who is, I come to find out, one of the best hand doctor/surgeons in all of France, I guess?  He looks at the x-rays and lays down the news. I might need surgery. Shut your mouth right there Frenchman.  Stop.  He goes to explain that I have two options.  Oh I should say what's wrong with my hand.  There is a fracture on my scaphoid, which is the bone at the base of your palm under your thumb, follow? Okay, so Doc says I can have surgery now to push it together to heal right or get a cast.  Uh, duh, cast.  Except. Now he was telling me this all in French, which, guys, is kind of hard to understand. I'd barely get it in English.  But I think I understood that there's a chance that the blood vessels would either get in the way of the bone healing, or kind of pool a little and make a little blockade thingie and then I would definitely need surgery to have the dead blood vessel thingies scraped out.  I go back in a month to have another radiographie (x-ray) done.  Fingers crossed,  guys.  Then is the little bit more fun part of getting a cast. Woo.

He didn't even let me choose a color.

Good thing  I like blue.  Maybe that's just not a thing here.  Or maybe he thought that I'm 21 years old and only children fall off bikes and I should stop sucking at life and don't get to choose. France is definitely winning right now. Anyway, guys, all in all it wasn't a terrible experience. I only cried like maybe twice, I got to see the French healthcare in action, I got my first cast ever, and I did some light reading. All in all, a pretty good weekend.  Aside from breaking my wrist.  SHAWNY G OUT.